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JANE AND I 



JANE AND I 


BY 


THOMAS SAWYER SPIVEY 

f I 

Author of Lavius Egyptus, etc. 


Illustrated by 

TULA TANNER 



New York and Washington 
THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
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UBf»o»v *f CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

SEP 30 1904 

f Oooyrleht Entry 

CLA»3 a-s XXo. No. 

97 9*7 

COPY B 


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Copyright, 1904 

BY THOMAS SAWYER SPIVEY 


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She’s too robust to play horse with now. 


Jane and I were chums. Chubby Jane! 
Jane always was chubby; a cute, little 
‘ ‘ roly-boly butter-ball ’ ’ ! A good big chunk 
of butter now, to be sure; nevertheless, 
sweet, fresh, and wholesome, in temper and 
person. 

We were children together, Jane and I. 
We played much and strenuously; ate 
much, and slept much— we had nothing else 
to do. 


6 


JANE AND I 


Jane had a father and I had a mother, 
so we hunched them, and we all went it sort 
of 4 ‘ pot-luck, ’ ’ “ don ’t- worry ’ ’ fashion, and 
were a very happy family. 

When Jane’s pa was away, Jane slept 
with me; and when ma was away, I slept 
with Jane— until we got big enough to know 
better. 

Both families were blessed with sufficient 
property to keep us all out of the poor- 
house. 

Our houses were right close together, two 
old Virginia homesteads. 

Mr. Mayberry, Jane’s father, was a 
rather quiet, prosy man of forty. 

My mother was a comely woman, ap- 
proximately the same age. She never 
would say exactly what her age was. 

Everybody tried to marry the two fam- 
ilies, and when they found they couldn’t do 
that they talked about us, till Mr. Mayberry 
cowhided two or three of them. This 


JANE AND I 


7 


seemed to bring the whole neighborhood to 
its senses. 

In after life Jane and I learned why ma 
and Mr. Mayberry didn’t marry— love for 
the first mate in both cases. They agreed 
to wait and see if that same kind of love 
would blend in Jane and me. 

Well, it blended; we amalgamated all 
right. We couldn’t be pulled apart with 
a steam derrick, although neither one of 
us would take a prize at a beauty show at 
the present stage of the game. 


I wanted to take Jane in my arms. 


It’s a pretty story. 

I wanted to get Jane into my arms the 
first time I ever saw her, as a little pink ball 
of humanity, lying on a pillow in my moth- 
er ’s lap. 

Jane is too big to play horse with now; 
but, oh! how the big sighs do bubble up 
when we talk of some of our' old “play 


JANE AND I 


9 


places” like the old “crowfish pond”; the 
old 4 4 sand lot”; the “ great divide,” and 
the “sweet-clover field.” 

We kind of snuggle closer together when 
we remember the two happy, innocent 
youngsters, rollicking about, with never a 
thought of its ending. 

Well, it has not wholly ended yet. We 
do get the “rollicks” occasionally now. 

Jane’s well-rounded legs haunt my mem- 
ory like something lost, never to he found 
again. 

I didn’t know it then, but I have since 
recalled, a thousand times, how pretty, 
plump, and dimpled she was as a child. To 
be sure, she is dimpled still, but they are 
bigger now. 

We seldom went beyond our own com- 
modious environments and never had our 
travels been farther away from home than 
the nearby village, up to the day I left for 
college, excepting once. 

My mother was a well-educated woman, 


10 


JANE AND I 


and she took delight in teaching us our 
first lessons. 

Our 4 i school-house ’ ’ was the great forest, 
the beautiful fields, and the teeming garden. 

Nature was kind to us and we learned 
our sweetest lessons by contact with her. 

We were together quite all of the time, 
with no one to watch us, conseqently we 
grew up natural and right. 

As we grew, like two little sheep, we soon 
learned to put confidence in our strength 
and agility, and though we had many nar- 
row escapes we never suffered broken bones 
or lasting scars. 

I was four years Jane’s senior, conse- 
quently she leaned on me. This leaning 
habit grew chronic, and, dear girl, she even 
now lurches toward me on the slightest 
provocation, though, literally, she is too ro- 
bust to lean on me now. 

When our conversation begins to border 
on “ olden times” I always brace her up 


JANE AND I 


11 


well in the old “ davenport. ’ ’ Even then 
she flops about some. 

To our sorrow, there is no little Jane 
upon whom to heap the love we bore for 
each other when childish playmates. Mr. 
Mayberry— I never could call him “pa” 
after the fight— says it’s because I’m a 
hybrid, and what a blessed thing it is for 
the race to die out. 



How Jane and I did long to know wliat 
was over and beyond the fence which 
marked the boundary line between our 
place and the “limitless beyond”— a view 
as far as the eye could reach. 

We had been cautioned not to go over 
the fence and into the big world, because 


JANE AND I 


13 


“wild rams” and “vicious bulls’ ’ were 
roaming about out there, and they took 
especial delight in butting the brains out 
of curious little girls and hooking holes in 
undutiful boys. 

This held us for a while. 

We later discovered this story about the 
rams and bulls was no myth. 

Well do I recall our first fall from 
grace— we were dutiful children. 

Jane and I stood at the fence. We had 
worn grooves in two big rocks on which, 
looking and longing, we stood to elevate us. 
It wasn’t a high fence, but the family edict 
made it appear forty feet, or so, high. We 
were extremely anxious to know something 
of the “great beyond” that day. 

Shading her chubby face with her right 
fist and resting her left confidently upon 
my arm, she said, in an awed sort of 
whisper : 

“I wonder what is away out there, in the 
big wide world?” 


14 


JANE AND I 


“Richmond” was the biggest thing I 
knew of, because I was once there with 
mother. I told Jane so. 

“How I would like to see Richmond,” 
she sighed pathetically. 

Jane’s longing stirred my own soul to ac- 
tion, and I proposed that we just stand on 
the other side of the fence and see if we 
could not get a glimpse of “Richmond.” 

The resolution was unanimously adopted, 
and before you could say Jack Robinson 
we were prowling about in the “limitless 
beyond,” looking for Richmond — and 
trouble. 

I got so busy catching June-bugs, I for- 
got all about Jane, and she strolled some 
distance away from me. 



There is nothing that I can recall quite 
so absorbing as catching the June-bug. 

His hypnotic hum makes the average boy 
forget what he was sent for, and he does 
not fully recover his normal mental state, 
as a rule, till he feels the more material whiz 
of the birch limb about his tired legs. 


16 


JANE AND I 


After Jane and I had climbed out of the 
garden of Eden I forgot it was to look for 
Richmond when I chased after an unusu- 
ally large basso prof undo June-bug. 

He alighted in the purple blossom of a 
huge iron-weed, and I was cautiously bring- 
ing the top down within the reach of my un- 
erring cap, when I heard a yell fit to curdle 
an Indian’s brain. 

Looking in the direction from whence it 
came I could see only a cloud of fat legs 
and arms flying around, like flails, with an 
occasional glimpse of Jane’s 4 ‘pig- tail” as 
she frantically tore across the field, with a 
great big ram, having horns as big as conch 
shells, in hot pursuit. 

She had found her ‘ ‘ Richmond. ’ ’ 

Jane was beating the ram by a city block, 
but this hot pace would soon tell on ‘ ‘ roly- 
boly. ’ ’ 

I let go my hold on the iron-weed, which 
flew up into the air, firing my big June-bug 
into space like a shot out of a catapult. 


JANE AND I 


17 


Seizing a pole which fortunately lay near 
at hand, I rushed to do battle for my lady- 
love. 

I let Mr. Earn have a bat on the nose that 
kept him in a trance till we got over the 
fence. 

Then we sat down to ponder the ways of 
the transgressor. 

Jane and I came to our first understand- 
ing for self-protection. 

We must tell ma we had been delving 
into the mysteries of the ‘ 4 great beyond.’ ’ 
We had disobeyed her and ventured over 
the “divide.” 

I was to do the talking and Jane was to 
“say nothing and saw wood.” 


We remembered we had disobeyed you , ma. 


We had had enough excitement for one 
day. 

The big ram had galloped all the play 
out of Jane. 

Feeling that we had committed our first 
great sin, we began our first pilgrimage to 
repentance. 


JANE AND I 


19 


Ma met us at the gate, and in her sweet, 
gentle voice asked: 

“Where have you been, children ?” 

Jane looked questioningly up into my 
face. 

Ma had a wonderfully keen instinct. She 
seemed to know something was doing. 

Maybe it was because we had come home 
earlier than usual, or perhaps our being so 
quiet had something to tell her; anyway, 
ma acted just as though she knew all. 

In a spirit of bravado, and with an elab- 
orate attempt to appear at ease, I answered 
her question in what I thought a careless, 
off-hand manner: 

“Oh, all around; and say, ma, before we 
thought, we climbed over into the big field 
to catch the biggest June-bug we ever saw. 
Wasn’t it a whopper, Jane? And while 
we were trying to land him, sure enough, 
just as you always told us, the big ram got 
after us, and then, all at oncet, we remem- 
bered we had disobeyed you, ma, and then 


20 


JANE AND I 


we felt sorry and got over the fence in a 
hnrry. Ha! ha! You should have seen 
Jane scramble over the fence! It would 
have made a brass monkey laugh.” 

Jane’s face turned red. She looked at 
me in surprise and seemed ready to cry. 

I had never teased or kidded her, and she 
would not stand for it, even in a “ careless 
conversation” to smooth ma’s ruffles and 
keep out of trouble. 

Ma didn’t seem to appreciate the joke 
either. She didn’t even notice it, and then 
I knew she “was on.” 

“Were you scared, Jane?” she asked, 
without showing any particular interest. 

Sly mother, she wanted to know just how 
dangerous our encounter had been, and 
Jane told her, in spite of our agreement 
that she mustn’t talk. 

In answer to ma’s question she said: 

“Yes’m, zat big sheep was awful big. 
He butted at me, and runned right after me. 
But John hitted him wis a big stick, an’, 


JANE AND I 


21 


an’, zen we gitted rite over ze big fence, 
and tnm rite home to tell yon all about it; 
didn’t we, John? An’ des so you wouldn’t 
be steared, zat’s all.” Then she looked 
anxiously at me to see if she had done 
wrong. 

Bless her innocent little soul, no one 
would have the heart to punish her after 
this serious little attempt to lighten her soul 
of its burden of fear. 

Neither of us had ever been punished in 
our lives. The greatest punishment Jane 
or I could suffer was to know that we had 
displeased my ma. 

Notwithstanding she smiled at Jane’s 
story, we both knew ma was displeased, and 
our souls grew soggy with the tears which 
would not shed. 


‘ I wonder hoic deep down they got ” 


Aftee our adventure in the wilderness 
with the ram we wanted ma to know that 
we were sorry for having violated her in- 
structions, therefore we played about the 
house for several days. 

Occasionally we would get down into the 
sandy lot back of our garden, to watch the 
busy little ants digging out their nests and 
piling little heaps of sand about them. 

How intently we did watch them, laying 
on our stomachs and kicking holes in the 
clean, dry sand with knees and toes. 


JANE AND I 


23 


“I wonder how deep down in the ground 
they go?” was one of Jane’s wise questions. 

She had only to stimulate my mind with 
such questions to get me very busy, and by 
tying a silk thread to a big, healthy ant and 
sending him down into the nest I at once 
devised a way for answering her question. 



I just yelled “run,” and jumped out myself. 


On the fourth day the longing could not 
be appeased. We had tasted of the for- 
bidden fruit and wanted more. 

We again sought the “ divide’ ’ and 
peeped through. 

Seeing nothing dangerous in sight, we 
looked cautiously toward the house, then 
climbed over the fence. Again we had ven- 
tured to ‘ 4 tread the unknown.” 


JANE AND I 


25 


For an hour we romped about without 
seeing hair or hide of ram or hull. 

At last fate got her dates mixed and put 
us up against it, good and hard. 

J ane ’s curious eyes saw a big bumble-bee 
disappear somewhere down in the long 
grass. She insisted she could hear the 
baby bumble-bees crying and she wanted 
to see them. 

In spite of my warning cries and before 
I could get to her to pull her away, she had 
poked her fingers right down into the 
bumble-bee’s nest, the biggest one I ever 
saw. 

I just yelled “run !” and jumped out my- 
self. For once I actually deserted Jane. 
Don’t you believe it! She caught up to 
me, with the bumble-bees sticking all over 
her, boring holes in her with their stings. 

They all seemed to leave her at once and 
jump on to me. 

In all our lives nothing ever hurt our 
feelings quite as much. 



We looked like Chinese gods. 


Well, that was the healthiest cradle full 
of babies Jane will ever see. 

For a week we could not look each other 
in the face, simply because our eyes were 
closed. 

Jane’s legs looked as though a pint of 
horse-chestnuts had been poured into each 
stocking. Her poor little arms were a sight 
to behold. 


JANE AND I 


27 


We both got it all over the face, neck, and 
hands, several big ones paying especial at- 
tention to our noses and ears; and, would 
you believe it, we looked like a fresh im- 
portation of Chinese gods. 

Not a morsel of solid food could we eat 
for three days. 

Nor could we even tell where we got 
tangled up with the bumble-bees till we 
could talk intelligently, which was about 
the third day after the battle with the 
1 ‘ babies. ’ ’ 

To this day you can scare Jane into seven 
or eight kinds of spasms by imitating the 
buzz of a bee. 

This trip held us down for a while. 



We were the busiest pair of kids in Vir- 
ginia. 

While our fun was always innocent in its 
inception, it frequently terminated in dis- 
aster or ridiculous situations and accidents. 

We literally kept ma busy hunting for 
her thread. We used it up by the spool, 


JANE AND I 


29 


tying the June-bugs, to hear their musical 
buzz about our ears. 

One bright summer day I caught a large 
number of June-bugs. As I made each 
capture I tied a thread to his body and 
handed him to Jane to hold, until she 
looked like a toy-balloon peddler. 

Jane was so hypnotized she forgot the 
business end of her job. 

I was hotfooting it after a big fellow, 
when I heard a cry, and looking back saw 
her grabbing wildly at the air. Her chubby 
hands had forgotten to hold on and she had 
lost her whole bunch of June-bugs, and 
there they were, sailing away above her 
head, strings and all. 



A pretty stream cut through our 
grounds, and during freshets it spread out 
in places, and stagnant pools were left here 
and there. 

Jane and I revelled in the mud. We espe- 
cially loved to go hunt for crawfish, because 
it enabled us to bespatter ourselves with 
the black mud from head to heels. It took 
a week to scrub us up after the trips. 


JANE AND I 


31 


The time came when Jane’s pretty round 
legs began to look too womanly when she 
was rolled up above her dimpled knees, 
and the crawfish game closed. 

Mother found it quite a hardship to scrub 
us up two or three times a day during the 
hot weather, so to make it easy she bought 
an immense cask and had it cut into two 
parts. These she placed in the woodshed, 
with a tall wood partition between them. 

She would make us pump the water into 
these tubs in the morning, to get warm dur- 
ing the day, and when we came home look- 
ing as though made of “stucco,” she would 
throw us into the tubs to soak. 



Jane was on her head in the mud. 


As we grew larger we took to fishing 
with bob and sinker. 

The last real good bat we had in the mud 
grew out of an accident. It culminated in 
a faultless rendition of the old play of 
Adam and Eve. 


JANE AND I 


33 


We were out fishing that day, and I had 
started for another point up the brook. I 
was in the lead. Not hearing the usual 
rumbling and snorting when Jane was in 
the wake, I looked back, and there she was 
standing on her head in the mud. 

Rushing back, I pulled her out and laid 
her on the bank to dry. 


I laundered Jane’s clothes. 


Her mouth, eyes, nose, ears, and hair 
were jammed full of mud. 

We decided to wash her out. 

While Jane washed the mud out of her 
hair, I laundered her clothes. 

Though Jane and I were permitted to be 
children together longer than is usually 


JANE AND I 


35 


considered safe, no bad thoughts had ever 
entered our minds. 

I was getting to be a good chunk of a 
lad at this time, and I can remember with a 
peculiar thrill how pretty and plump Jane 
looked that day, almost in the altogether, 
curled up on the bank shaking her thick 
brown hair in the sunlight. 

We both realized the error of our way, 
for, without saying a word about it, we 
never went to such extreme again. 

The old tubs in the wood-shed got so dry 
the hoops dropped off and their sides caved 
in. 

I began to notice also that as Jane grew 
taller her skirts grew longer. 

Ma knew her business — she noticed 
things a bit herself. 


O# 


We loved to plant the floivers. 


One day, when Jane was not about, she 
took me into her confidence and put me on 
my honor. 

“John,” she said, “Jane is getting to he 
quite a big girl now. She is the only dear 
sweet sister we have. She is under your 
watchful care ; guard her well ; never do or 


JANE AND I 


37 


say anything to her that you would Be 
ashamed to have me know. You may call 
her your sweetheart if you wish, and some 
day I hope your own dear wife. You must 
be more dignified in your play.” 

But somehow, in spite of ma’s warning, 
we would drop into our old familiar ways. 
Our kites got tangled up in more ways than 
one. 

I stuck by Jane and Jane stuck by me, 
and we got along bully together. 

Our pastimes did take a more dignified 
and studious turn, however, for we were 
both being coached to go away to school. 

We especially loved to plant the flowers 
in spring and watch them grow and blos- 
som. 

One liking of ours was to watch the busy 
little honey bees gathering their legs full 
of the materials for making the golden fluid 
which both of us delighted so much to 
smear on our bread, face, hands, and hair. 



Jane was a hugger, and always will be, I 
suppose. We have never yet been able to 
break her of the habit. 

If you ever visit us, and intend to bring 
the baby, I will not be responsible if she 
hugs it until she breaks its back. She 
broke the back of a neighbor’s dog and it 


JANE AND I 


39 


cost me fifty dollars. This is one reason 
why we have no pets. 

When Jane used to hug me when we were 
children I was much larger than she and 
she could not hurt me, so she just practiced 
until she really did work up a muscular 
contraction of the arms quite Sandowish in 
its powers. When she becomes a bit stren- 
uous in her affections something must rip, 
tear, or “bust.” 

She was always a lover and a hugger. 
She wanted to get her hooks on to anything 
she loved. The result of this habit was 
often disastrous. 

I might refer to her getting her fingers 
into the bumble-bees’ nest, but I have a 
more appropriate illustration. 

Our old cow, Boss, came home with a 
baby calf. Jane nearly tore the fence down 
getting at that calf to hug it. 

Mrs. Boss only hooked her into the water- 
ing trough, to show her appreciation of the 
overgrown affection for her offspring. 


40 


JANE AND I 


Jane was a soft little butter-ball, appar- 
ently without bones, and you couldn't se- 
riously hurt her without poking holes in 
her. 

Boss's horns came dangerously near 
puncturing her tough little hide that time. 
She had two big blue spots— so ma said— 
for a month. 



This same calf was a natural-born kicker. 

It kicked the wind out of Jane when it 
grew larger. Jane always seemed to get 
at the business end of anything that carried 
deadly weapons. 

It was our duty to separate Boss and her 
baby each morning and put them in sep- 


42 


JANE AND I 


arate pastures, in order to give the balance 
of the family a show for enough milk for 
the coffee. 

One morning Jane felt too strong and 
healthy for any use. I was pulling the 
calf along with a piece of clothes-line and 
Jane concluded she would push some. 
Grabbing the calf by the tail she put her 
hands against him— it was a him— and be- 
gan to cut some funny capers, when Mr. 
Calfy cut loose with both hind legs, catch- 
ing Jane with a double uppercut in the 
solar plexus, literally knocking her out. 

It took one hour to bring Jane around so 
she could take a natural breath, and it took 
me a whole day to catch that fool calf. 

The chase through the briars, thorns, and 
scrub bushes left about a pint of clothing 
upon me, and not much more cuticle, at the 
end of the day’s game. 



This calf caused more trouble than any- 
thing else that ever happened on our place. 

It must have been the reincarnation of 
some famous Indian fakir, for by some mys- 
terious power it could jump over, crawl 
under, or walk through a fence, no matter 
how constructed. 


44 


JANE AND I 


Every few minutes during the day, for a 
period of some months, Jane and I had to 
go separate Boss and her baby. 

It was during one of these wrestling bouts 
that Jane witnessed her first bull fight. 

I was the heroic matador, without the 
red sash, in this thrilling encounter. 

A young hull had taken it into his horny 
head to champion the cause of the calf. 
He was always pawing about for a fight. 

I was a big chunk of a lad and gave him 
battle, while Jane made a balloon-ascension 
dash over the fence. I hit the bull between 
the eyes with a pole, and while he was 
blinking to get his bulgy eyes back into 
their sockets, I made a grand-stand finish 
and joined the audience myself. 



Jane’s strongest point was, she was 
funny; sick or well, sunny or sad, always 
funny. In her most trying and dubious 
positions she was pathetically comical. 

She needed no ornamentation to make 
her pretty, for she was the kind that is 


46 


JANE AND I 


prettiest when least decorated. She was 
ripening into a robust young girl, strong 
as an ox and good natured as a kitten; the 
best playfellow that ever was. 

T was now old enough to begin to think 
a bit. My mother often delivered some 
very effective moral lectures to me, which 
bore much on my conduct toward Jane, and 
it told in my treatment of her. But once 
in a while the old devil would get a leg 
loose, and both of us would cut some of 
our old capers. 

However, our efforts were gradually 
growing along more dignified lines. 

We did love to be at sport alone together, 
and this was not denied us. 

I played many scurvy tricks on Jane, but 
she was quite capable of 4 ‘wiggling out.” 

One day, while out in the woodland, Jane 
forgot how big she had grown and she 
asked me to boost her up in a tree, where 
she could sit and watch me fish. 


JANE AND I 


47 


I boosted her up the tree and left her 
there. 

Well, she tore nearly all her clothes off, 
and barked the inside of both her legs 
“shinning down.” 

For a week she walked like a pig with 
blind staggers,— a bit wabbly,— but she was 
good natured about it. I was good to her 
for a long time after that. 



Jane put the kettle on. 


Jane took to domestic tilings beautifully. 
She begged mother to allow her to help 
peel the potatoes, make the jelly, mould the 
butter, and make the delightful home-made 
cheese. 

When we would go in search of the fra- 


JANE AND I 


49 


grant May-apple, blackberries, or nuts, it 
was our delight to cook our own little lunch- 
eon in the woods. Jane would put the ket- 
tle on while I toasted the bread. 

This is one of the pleasures we have not 
denied ourselves in after life. The old fra- 
grance of those delightful events hovers 
about us when now we take a lark out into 
the cool woodlands about our own country 
home. 

More than once we have heard the whis- 
per, “What simple, plebeian people they 
are.” Now let me whisper to those who 
think so: 

“Had you the blue blood that runs in 
Jane’s and my veins you would be doing 
exactly as we are doing, instead of wasting 
your energies in the desert air. 

“Your turbulent life has no analogy with 
the love, peace, and comfort of simplicity, 
born of the early experience such as Jane 
and I had. 

“We are extremely happy every hour of 


50 


JANE AND I 


our life. Why should we make ourselves 
unhappy to please the cold, selfish, indif- 
ferent world? 

4 ‘We fail to see it that way, and we re- 
fuse to change our views of life, habits, and 
customs to suit the whims of those who do 
not agree with us.” 



The day was fast approaching when our 
beautiful day-dreams would come to an end. 

I was first to realize this, I thought. 

We had grown entirely out of childhood, 
and could have set right up to house-keep- 
ing— in India. 


52 


JANE AND I 


Jane was fourteen and I was eighteen. 
Ma said she just had to make us quit being 
children, then she mopped her eyes with 
her apron. 

There was now some talk about my going 
to college and it had quite a depressing ef- 
fect on our household. 

Jane and I moped about, as though re- 
luctant to start any new play. 

It was a beautiful sunny day, that day 
when Jane and I took each other by the 
hand and strolled over to the ‘ ‘ great 
divide/ ’ 

Standing at the dear old fence, we looked 
away off in the distance. How far away it 
seemed to-day! 

Jane drew close to me and I placed my 
arm about her plump waist. 

“Pm going away, Jane,” I said, without 
looking toward her. 

To my surprise, she said not a word. She 
did not even take her gaze from the dim 
distance. Somehow, I felt she knew. 


JANE AND I 


53 


I patted her dear little back and also 
looked away off, but the while covertly 
watching her through the corner of my eye. 

Presently I saw a big tear run right down 
her chubby cheek and drop off, like a big 
diamond. 

I have thought ever since that some angel 
must have been weeping when diamonds 
were made. Probably she was being sep- 
arated from a life-long companion. I could 
conceive of no greater cause for sorrow. 

We had worn grooves in the big flat 
rocks, standing on them all these years, 
wondering what was away out in the big 
wide world. 

Now, in our grief we squatted right down 
on them, and wept it out, while old Boss 
ate up Jane’s new hat. 

After we had exhausted two “fountains 
of grief,” and washed up yards of vegeta- 
tion about us with our copious tears, Jane— 
bless her little soul!— looked up into my 


54 


JANE AND I 


face and said, in the most tearful and pa- 
thetic way : 

“I wish you wouldn’t go. "What will be- 
come of me when you are gone?” 

“Jane, dear,” I replied, drawing her 
closer to me, “I’m almost a man now. 
Mother is right. I must go to college if I 
expect to be any sort of man at all. I want 
to be somebody, for your sake. I want to 
marry you when I am through college, just 
as soon as ma says so. I can never marry 
any one else, Jane, but you.” 

“I should say not,” she gulped. 

“Well,” I continued, “will you be my 
true sweetheart and wait for me?” 

“I guess I’ll have to,” was her reply. 

“I mean, Jane, I don’t want you to for- 
get when I am gone. You will soon be old 
enough to have young men calling on you. 
Don’t forget you have always belonged to 
me, ever since you were a little pink and 
white baby. Ma and I raised you. You 
won ’t forget, will you ? ’ ’ 


JANE AND I 


55 


Her reply to this was a fresh shower of 
tears. She soaked my shirt front till I 
could feel my manly bosom getting soggy. 




/ said good by to Jane xohile ma packed. 


As I remarked before, my ma was a wise 
woman. She knew there would be trouble 
when this day dawned. 

She had long and carefully planned my 
going to Princeton, because my father had 
been a graduate of that college. 

Jane and I were to write to each other 
every Sunday. At first we were to write 


JANE AND I 


57 


every day, but ma said that would take up 
too much time, besides, it would be difficult 
to find subjects for daily letters. 

This awful day of my departure came at 
last. 

1 said good-by to Jane while ma packed. 

Never since have I felt such anguish as 
I experienced on this eventful occasion. 

It seemed as though my heart would 
surely break. Poor little J ane wept herself 
sick. 


Ma, Jane and Fido saw me off. 


In the development of the country about 
us a railroad had come to the village, the 
station being located quite near our place. 

My trunk was sent over to the small de- 
pot in advance, and ma, Jane, and the dog 
saw me off. 

I could have gone to Princeton by steam- 
er, in the tears we all shed, for we wept 


JANE AND I 


59 


copiously as we paraded along Indian file. 

Ma was no iceberg herself. She cried as 
much as any of us. It was my first trip 
away from her watchful care. 

She had thoroughly drilled into me what 
my conduct should be while at college. 

I pride myself on being able to say I 
made a conscientious effort to do all mother 
told me to do. I owed her much more than 
I ever could hope to repay by mere exem- 
plary conduct. 

Jane’s letters came as regular as the tick 
of our old family clock, and mine to her 
responded with equal promptitude. 

I have her cunning letters among my 
treasures. You cannot tell one from an- 
other, excepting by reference to the date. 
They have the appearance of being struck 
off from a regular stereotyped form: 

“Dear John: 

“We miss you so much. We are so un- 
happy. Please come back soon. I can’t 


60 


JANE AND I 


play any more. I love yon and am still 
waiting. 

‘ ‘ Yours with lots of kisses, 

“Jane.” 

Seven months passed, when suddenly 
Jane’s letters ceased. 

Ma wrote her usual Sunday letter, in 
which she said briefly: 

4 ‘ My dear boy : 

“I know you will be disappointed to 
learn that Mr. Mayberry has leased his 
property here and gone to Europe. He 
has taken Jane with him. I did not know 
a thing about it until he was ready to say 
good-by. Mother.” 

I was puzzled beyond expression that 
Jane did not write me about so serious a 
matter. I did so cherish the memory of 
this dear, sweet girl. It was hard to recon- 
cile her neglect with what I knew of her 
nature. I gave her the benefit of the doubt. 


JANE AND I 


61 


This took much of the spirit and ambition 
out of me, for the vision of Jane’s sweet 
face was always before me when important 
thing's were to he decided, and now it 
seemed I would probably lose her. 

Four years swiftly passed by. I was 
something of an athlete, and mother was 
very proud of my achievements, physical 
as well as mental. She would say, * 4 A good, 
sound body is essential to a strong, healthy 
mind, John.” 



I had almost completed my course at 
Princeton, and would graduate in June. 

During the Christmas holidays I went 
home for my usual visit. 

As I entered the door, mother greeted 
me with her usual cordiality. She always 
was very affectionate toward me; no more 
so, though, than she was toward Jane. 


JANE AND I 


63 


Mother stepped aside, and there stood 
Jane. 

6 4 J ane ! ’ ’ I yelled, and sprang toward her 
with outstretched arms, beaming with de- 
light. 

To my utter chagrin, mortification, 
shame, and humiliation, the beloved com- 
panion of my childhood, every inch of 
whose rosy person I had loved, petted, ca- 
ressed and protected, put out her hands and 
kept me at arms ’ length. 

4 ‘No, I am a woman now, John,” she 
said, and then upon noticing my dejected 
and hurt appearance, she became as white 
as marble and turned her face away. 

I did not understand, hut mother did. 


Who is that chap, Mother f 


Mother walked over to the window and 
looked away off toward the “divide.” 

Jane stood for a moment looking at the 
floor, in a hesitating sort of way. 

Then I knew something was wrong. A 
jar might be dangerous. 

I chose my mother, because she had been 


JANE AND I 


65 


a mother to both of us and she must know 
what is right. 

I stepped to her side, drew her head down 
on my shoulder, and she silently wept as 
we both looked away off in the distance. 
Jane, with slow, reluctant step, passed out 
at the door. 

As we stood, silent and thoughtful, a well- 
dressed young man passed by, reaching our 
gate just as Jane passed out. 

He politely raised his hat, and as Jane 
approached near to him he essayed to take 
her arm. I distinctly saw her draw away, 
but I saw them walk along our old friendly 
path together. 

“Who is that chap, mother V J I asked. 

“You probably do not remember him,” 
she responded. “Can you recollect the 
butcher’s stand at the end of the bridge, 
as you go into the village, and that fat boy 
who used to deliver the sausages'? Well, 
that is he, Booby Blatz.” 


66 


JANE AND I 


There was something vicious about the 
manner in which mother spoke this. 

When my gentle mother displayed tem- 
per, something was doing, sure enough. 

4 ‘Well, never mind, mother, it will keep,” 
I said, in an effort to calm her. “ Remem- 
ber, I am just home and we have hardly 
said howdy-do.” 

“No, it won’t keep, John!” she ex- 
claimed; “your coming home has much to 
do with it. Your vacation this time, I fear, 
will not be a pleasant one. Get straight- 
ened out and at dinner I will tell you the 
whole story.” 

Mother told me all that had transpired 
from the beginning. Mayberry had devel- 
oped a bad trait, a covetous streak. He 
had secretly discovered a vein of coal on 
his land and it ran over into our tract. Our 
land lay between his own and the only ave- 
nue by which he could establish profitable 
communication with the outer world. In 


JANE AND I 


67 


fact, he couldn’t get a railroad branch to 
his coal without crossing our land. 

For months he had tried to buy mother ’s 
land. He sent sneaky agents to buy both 
pieces. He expressed a “willingness” to 
sell his place “if mother would sell.” He 
gave a fictitious option on his piece, at a 
very high figure, and tried to induce mother 
to do the same. My mother was no fool, 
not half as much as Mayberry was. She 
saw, about this time, some shining blocks 
of coal gradually accumulating about the 
yard of our neighbor. Greedy Mayberry 
didn’t have sense enough to conceal this, 
and the fact that numerous well-dressed 
strangers were about his house, and prowl- 
ing about with him over both pieces of 
land ; nor had he honesty enough to offer a 
fair deal to mother. 

She did not have to sell. While we were 
not wealthy, we had sufficient to keep us 
well fed and comfortably clothed. It is 
true, my education was an extra drain on 


68 


JANE AND I 


mother’s purse, and I was not allowed much 
to spend. My clothes were the simplest and 
the cheapest that would pass muster, 
though I got along very well. Owing to 
these conditions, mother carefully concealed 
from my knowledge all the facts up to this 
time. 

Suddenly Mayberry went abroad, taking 
Jane with him. They had only recently 
returned when I made my holiday visit 
home. There was much mystery about this 
trip, and now it was evident a strong effort 
was going to be made to bring things to an 
issue. 

It seemed old man Blatz was now a big 
wholesale butcher at some place in New Jer- 
sey. He was reputed to be worth several 
millions and associated with the great West- 
ern packing houses. 

His son, the boy called Booby, and the 
same one who delivered the sausages, I had 
only seen a few times when a child. The 
family left our village about that time. 


JANE AND I 


69 


Booby was much my senior, was now a 
man, and apparently a clever fellow, but 
he had a bad, lascivious face. He had 
grown into a smart-looking chap, and did 
rather lay me out with his extravagant 
clothes. 

But I knew that here was a case where 
the bumps and cords of muscles on my 
shoulders, arms and back would make him 
look like thirty cents under proper circum- 
stances, and I was just aching to have the 
proper circumstances manifest themselves. 
My football blood needed exercising. 

I did not propose, though, to fight for a 
girl who did not want me for a champion. 

I felt there was something wrong. Jane’s 
actions were not like her, and I wanted so 
much to give her all the benefit of several 
doubts. I would wait. 

I did wait, and nearly choked to death 
as a result of it. My heart has not gotten 
back into its normal position since. 



Do you remember when tee planted it, Janet 


It happened this way. 

The day following my arrival at home 
was a bright and sunny one. 

I was sore in heart and sad in mind. I 
walked out into the sunshine to get a breath 
of the old air on which I had been raised. 


JANE AND I 


71 


It did taste good and it revived my droop- 
ing spirits some, still it was not the same 
old place. The spirit, the life, the joy, were 
missing— the bright face of Jane, the dear 
little Jane who carried my umbrella to the 
depot when the household saw me oif. If 
the tears we wept that day had been a 
shower from heaven, that umbrella would 
have been useful. It was useless now. I 
could not weep. My soul had sopped up 
all the tears in me. 

I seated myself upon the old green 
wooden bench, and commenced to mark my 
thoughts in hieroglyphics upon the gravel 
walk with the small bamboo cane which 
Jane had given me when I first went away 
to college. 

I did not see any one approach, but a 
shadow fell across the very spot on which 
I was making the grotesque figures and 
upon which I was so intently gazing. 

Looking up, I saw Jane in all her youth- 
ful glory— the loveliest creature I had ever 


72 


JANE AND I 


looked upon. Her once ‘ ‘ roly-boly, ’ ’ bulgy 
form bad developed longer curves and more 
graceful lines. 

The crisp morning air had enhanced the 
color in her cheeks and she was simply one 
big ball of peaches and cream. 

I made no attempt to conceal my joy. 

She stood partially behind the friendly 
old seat, resting one hand carelessly over 
the back of it. 

I took this hand and she did not draw it 
away. 

“Good morning, Jane,” I said. 

She did not look up, but just stood, in a 
droopy sort of way, kicking at the edge of 
the old walk, and plucking at a nearby rose- 
bush. 

“Jane, dear,” I continued, “do you re- 
member when we planted that rose-bush?” 

This question brought her to her senses. 
She straightened up, closed her hand tight- 
ly on mine, and as the pink flooded her fair 
face and neck I saw, for a moment, my own 


JANE AND I 


73 


little playfellow, the only Jane I ever want- 
ed to know and to keep. 

Her eyes were brimming over with tears, 
the same bright diamonds, and her beaming 
face told me what her gulpy throat could 
not utter. 

In another moment I would have had 
her in my arms right out there in the open, 
hut at that critical period Booby Blatz 
bobbed up at the gate. 



Jane walked off icith Booby Blatz. 


Booby was bold. He walked right in, 
with his squawky clothes ; raised his hat to 
Jane, and looked inquiringly toward me. 

‘ 4 This is Mr. Blatz, Mr. Fairchild,” said 
Jane, introducing us. 

We shook hands in a gingerly sort of 
way, and streams of jealousy and hatred 
went both ways. 


JANE AND I 


75 


We each felt suspicious of the other, and 
made little effort to conceal our contempt 
for one another. 

It looked dangerously like an early mani- 
festation of the ‘ ‘ opportune circumstances ’ ’ 
for which I longed to enable me to reduce 
Booby ’s market price to thirty cents. 

Physically, I felt bully that morning. 

Jane seemed to anticipate something, for 
notwithstanding I had only been at home a 
few hours, and had almost melted her ada- 
mantine heart but a minute before, she took 
this fellow’s arm and strolled away with 
him, leaving me standing there like a fool. 

I remember one time going down into 
our village and seeing a bright silver piece 
lying on the side -walk. As with eager joy 
I stooped to pick it up, it was swished away 
at the end of a cord by the brats who were 
working the game. This morning, as I saw 
Jane walk off with Booby, singular to say, 
this early experience was the first thing to 
pop into my mind, and the feeling of dis- 


76 


JANE AND I 


appointment and rage was identically the 
same, excepting it was on a larger scale 
this time. 


l/y\a' i 

y*r- 1 

I 

$ 

>\>. 

rap 

< C'a\ 

fC 


,spM 

'it 


Booby, the dogs and the sausages. 


I was a bit dazed for a while. I sat think- 
ing. I dared not look after them. 

It was apparent to me that this young 
chap was laying siege to Jane’s heart, 
which I felt certain now meant he was 
poaching on my preserves. There was 



78 


JANE AND I 


some strong influence at work in his favor, 
else Jane would not have walked away with 
him in that docile manner. 

The Mayberry family was a proud, stiff- 
necked, old Virginia family, and to believe 
that Jane’s father would permit her to 
marry Boobv was to admit that he was sell- 
ing her at some price. The thought made 
me boil. Jane was loyal to me at heart, and 
I knew it. I certainly would not give her 
up without a hard struggle. 

I had defended her against the 4 4 ram” 
and the “bull” till she climbed over the 
fence, and I could surely hold off Booby 
till she could find a place of safety. I made 
up my mind to do so, if I had to put him in 
a hospital. 

In my excitement I broke the bamboo 
cane and left the pieces lying on the old, 
weather-beaten bench. 

It seemed Booby’s father was at the head 
of the syndicate organized to exploit the 


JANE AND I 


79 


Mayberry coal lands, and this had brought 
Booby and Jane together. 

I walked into the house. Finding mother, 
I told her what had happened. It seemed 
to make her furious. She hated Booby and 
his whole outfit. 

“ Mother, do you remember a little old 
maid, down in the village, who gave Jane 
and me a few lessons in drawing several 
years ago?” I asked. 

“Why, yes,” she responded, “very well. 
Why do you ask?” 

“Do you recall a funny set of pictures 
she once made, on the spot, for us, while 
looking out of her window— the boy, {he 
two dogs, and the sausages?” I asked. 

“Yes, I do! Yes, I do! sure enough,” she 
exclaimed. “ Where are they now, I won- 
der ? Oh, I suspect they are in the old oak 
desk up in the garret.” 

She had hardly gotten the words out of 
her mouth before I was on my way to the 
garret. After fifteen minutes' search I 


80 


JANE AND I 


found a roll of dusty paper, fortunately 
covering the sheets, which rested snugly 
within, so they remained bright and clean. 

We opened them and found six sketches 
of 4 ‘ Booby,’ ’ which marked him for life. 

“These will do some good,” I remarked 
to mother. She only smiled. 



It looked like a wrestling match. 

The next day Jane come over— to see 
mother. 

She discovered, hanging on the wall, a 
new gilded frame containing the six awk- 
ward pictures of Booby. 

I was not there, but mother said she 
laughed till the tears rolled down her 


82 


JANE AND I 


cheeks, then she suddenly stopped and 
asked : 

4 4 Where is John! I want to see him.” 

A little later I came into the house. 

From the hallway I could see Jane. She 
was trying to fit the two ends of my broken 
bamboo cane together. 

As I entered the room she dropped them 
and bounded toward me with outstretched 
hands. 

I saw in a moment all was off— in a 
bunch. 

4 4 Will you forgive me, John!” she cried. 
44 I can stand it no longer, can you not see! 
0 John, I love you still, true and good, more 
than ever! If you will forgive me for my 
ugly treatment of you I will feel so grate- 
ful, I will tell all. So do say I may be Jane 
to you again. Please do!” 

Her pleading was due to the fact that I 
was so surprised for a moment I was speech- 
less and actless— only for a moment though. 

My mother was a very industrious 


JANE AND I 


83 


woman— sometimes. She was a very busy 
woman that day. 

She didn’t wait to see whether Jane and 
I were going to fight or hug each other, but 
wisely stepped out of the room while we 
had it out. 

1 soon had Jane in my arms, clear up to 
her chin. 

Well, if Jane had been an octopus my 
name would have been Dennis. 

It looked like a Graeco-Eoman wrestling 
match for some minutes, both with a 
strangle hold. 

Jane was sobbing as though her greedy 
little heart would split. 

“ There, there,” I said, patting her on 
the back of the head till I knocked half her 
hairpins on the floor, “ don’t cry any more; 
you shall always be my Jane.” Then I 
stuffed my handkerchief in my collar to 
keep the tears from literally running down 
my back. She certainly was the wettest 
woman I ever knew. 


84 v 


JANE AND I 


“You do feel like Jane,” I said; “the 
same dear Jane of yore.” 

Suddenly she stopped sobbing, looked up 
and said, in a sharp, snappy voice: 

“What did you break my cane for!” 

I thought it safe, therefore I retaliated: 

“Because you had broken my heart.” 

“Then you did break it purposely!” she 
screamed ; but she didn ’t let go, which was 
a good sign. 

“No, sweetheart, I would have broken my 
own leg first. It was purely an accident,” 
I said gently, and meant it too. 

Then I tickled the fat ribs till she laughed 
and forgot all about the broken bamboo. 



Ma gave us about the time she thought 
we needed, then she began to bang things 
around to let us know she was coming. 

When ma came in we just all hugged 
each other. Then we sat down for a serious 
talk. 

After a while I whispered to Jane: 

“Wouldn’t you like to take a turn over 
the old play-ground, girlie f” 


86 


JANE AND I 


“The best in the world,’ ’ was her hearty 
reply. 

We walked out through the back porch 
way, through the old grape arbor, through 
the garden, stopping occasionally to point 
out some old landmark, a reminder of those 
rosy days of childhood; down through the 
sandy loam of the orchard, across the 
brook, and at last we again stood on the old 
‘ ‘ divide. ’ ’ 



It was the same old fence that day, but 
it mattered little to us what was beyond. 

You could have put mother’s improvised 
bath-tub over “all the world to us” at that 
moment. 

We climbed to the top, and there we sat, 
for the good Lord only knows how long, oh- 


88 


JANE AND I 


livious of everything but the fact that we 
were together again, Jane and I— my sweet, 
confiding Jane once more. 

While I held her close to me— so the wind 
wouldn’t blow her away over into the ‘ ‘ lim- 
itless beyond, ’ 9 to be butted by the ‘ 4 ram , 9 9 
hooked by the ‘ 4 bull,” or stung by the “ba- 
by bumble-bees , 9 9 she told me all. 

Old Boss couldn’t stand it any longer. 
She came up and said “ good-morning, ” 
then got very busy trying to eat her old 
friend. She only chewed a piece off Jane’s 
skirt as big as a bath towel. 



When we climbed down from the fence, 
Jane was scudding almost under bare poles. 
She grabbed frantically behind her, only 
to grab a handful of empty air; then she 
backed up against the fence and laughed 
as she pointed to the old cow, standing some 


90 


JANE AND I 


distance away calmly chewing a homespun 
cud, with a few yards trailing out of her 
greedy mouth. 

It was a fact, Jane could not travel that 
way and be considered respectable, so I 
pulled off my coat, slipped it behind her 
and tied the sleeves in front. 

Jane was no prude ; besides, we were en- 
gaged, so she took it good naturedly. Turn- 
ing around she asked, “How do I look be- 
hind, John?” 

“A little bulgy, but that will help some,” 
I replied. 

Jane and I had reached an understand- 
ing. She was true to me. I was sure of it. 
I could trust her. Subsequent events vin- 
dicated me in this belief. 

Her treatment of me the previous days 
was explained to my satisfaction, and we 
swore never again to doubt; but there was 
some clever work to be done now. 

She gave us a clue to the contemplated 


JANE AND I 


91 


actions of the coal syndicate and I at once 
laid my own plans. 

My graduation in June would almost 
complete also my study of law. I had al- 
ready made arrangements to enter the law 
office of our friend and legal advisor, Judge 
Henry Banning, of New York. 

Mother and Jane were to remain on 
guard at home while I got things right. 

I was to leave the following day. Mr. 
Mayberry had intimated to Jane that he 
wanted her to marry Booby. 

Mother and Jane promised to combat this 
with all their might. 

Mayberry was proud of his lineage, there- 
fore it must have been a struggle with his 
pride to make this concession. Something 
great must have been at stake. 

He had not reached the point of force as 
yet, but it was apparent he was trying to 
wean Jane away from the old sympathies 
which bound her to us. 

Jane loved her father, and at first made 


92 


JANE AND I 


a manful struggle to sacrifice herself, and 
incidentally to sacrifice us. It was only an 
experiment, however, and it would not 
work. Her heart was too healthy and 
sound. It rebelled against such unnatural 
treatment. 



Go put on pour stveater, John. 


The evening before my departure, moth- 
er, Jane, and I were to have a little dinner 
together. 

Jane wanted to show me a “ dream of an 
evening gown” which she had brought with 
her from Paris. 

She said every time she put it on she felt 
like she had “mud in her hair.” 


94 


JANE AND I 


This was to be quite a swell affair. 
Mother was to dig up some of her “ merry 
togs. ’ ’ 

“But, mother,’ ’ I said, “I have nothing 
to wear myself but my last year’s dress- 
suit, and it is now so small I fear I cannot 
get into it.” 

“Never mind, John, only Jane and I will 
laugh at you. We have done that many 
times before,” was her discouraging reply. 

Well, it was just as I thought. I was 
afraid to sneeze for fear of splitting every- 
thing I had on. I had gained twenty-seven 
pounds since the evening suit was made. 

The sleeves were at least two inches short, 
as also were the trousers. I never was quite 
so miserable in my life before. 

Mother and Jane were standing in our 
little parlor, ready to “receive” me. When 
they saw me they fairly yelled with laugh- 
ter. 

“Go put on your sweater, John; you look 
like a jockey,” laughingly cried Jane. 


JANE AND I 


95 


“You have reefed your sails too close ,’ ’ 
said mother; and I did feel like a fool. 

I added fuel to the fury by asking mother 
if she thought old Boss had had a try at 
my dress coat. This brought Miss Jane 
to her senses. She came over and put her 
beautiful arm on my shoulder and said in 
the most serious manner: “John, no mat- 
ter what you have on that big back of yours, 
it is just the same to me. I would dance 
with you in a sweater at the charity ball, if 
it were necessary, and never blush for it, 
even though Mrs. Astor snubbed me for it. ’ ’ 
Then she gave me a hearty kiss, as also 
did ma. 


I enjoyed this dinner hugely. 


I have in my day dined under all con- 
ditions, but never before nor since have I 
enjoyed a dinner quite so much as I did 
this one with the two women I loved most — 
my mother and my Jane. 

My mother was, early in life, a beautiful 


JANE AND I 


97 


woman, but she was breaking some now. 
Jane was radiant. My mother agreed with 
me that evening that Jane was the most 
beautiful young woman we had ever seen. 
Her magnificent shoulders, neck, and arms 
were truly ravishing. I kissed every square 
inch of her in sight, and that was quite a 
large area— from the waist line up. 

Mother said I ought to be ashamed ; but 
when I whispered in Jane’s willing ear, 
“She should have been in the gallery when 
we laundered you out down in the old mud 
hole,” she simply had to be held or she 
would have slid under the table. 

That evening formed a partnership in 
more ways than one. After dinner we went 
up to mother’s chamber and got our heads 
together. 

Mother, Jane, and I then and there 
formed the 1 ‘ Fairchild Coal and Coke Com- 
pany” to exploit the “key to the situation,” 
and Jane became a traitor in the camp of 
her own father; but we all agreed that it 


98 


JANE AND I 


was for his protection and good, as well as 
our own, for recently symptoms of bad 
faith had manifested themselves in the ugly 
crowd with whom he was negotiating. 

Mother was treasurer. 

Jane was vice-president. 

I was secretary, and we were to get some 
big New York man to be president, so his 
name would scare the enemy to death. 



The next morning I was taking my last 
look about, and incidentally waiting for 
Jane’s rosy face to poke itself through the 
gate. When she did come she galloped 
through the gate and darted into the house 
without even 4 4 good-morning, sir.” She 
had caught a glimpse of Booby. 


to fC: 


JANE AND I 


100 

1 1 1 

Directly, mother came out, and at the 
same time Booby Blatz came rolling in 
through the gate. 

He said good-morning to mother and ex- 
tended his hand to me. I took it in a per- 
functory way, hut found it clammy and 
dropped it. 

Without an invitation, he seated himself 
upon the wood seat and commenced to talk. 
Then the slobbery features of the butcher 
boy came back to me vividly. I recognized 
every line. 

“Mr. Fairchild,” he began, “I under- 
stand you are to return to college to-day. 
I would like to have a little talk with you 
and your mother this morning about your 
property here. It is needless to say that we 
have been desirous of purchasing this prop- 
erty for some time. I speak for the syndi- 
cate of which my father is the head. Now, 
will you listen to a proposition or will you 
advance one yourselves to bring us to some 
understanding?” 


JANE AND I 


101 


1 made short work of Mr. Blatz by say- 
ing: 

“Mr. Blatz, had Mr. Mayberry or your 
syndicate shown an inclination to do my 
mother justice in the first place, you doubt- 
less would be reaping a rich reward from 
this coal deposit at this time. On the con- 
trary, you tried in every way to take ad- 
vantage of a defenseless woman and de- 
fraud her out of her just dues. Those early 
efforts must bear their fruits before you 
can plant a new crop. I will say frankly 
to you now, in a very short time you will 
pay us our price for this property or sell 
your own to us at our price, whether you 
want to or not. This is all we care to say 
to you. We do not hold a very high opinion 
of you, and it is well for us to understand 
each other at once.” 

Booby had arisen. He replied simply : 

“I care nothing for your personal opin- 
ion of me— that matters little one way or 
the other. I only wanted to give you a fair 


102 


JANE AND I 


show, that is all. In thirty days we will 
begin to lay a railroad track across your 
property. G ood-day . 9 9 

With this he strode away. 

“Well, what do you think of that, moth- 
er ! 91 1 exclaimed. 

She only sniffed contemptuously, saying 
nothing. 



Jane, thinking the coast clear, came out 
to where mother and I were standing. 
Booby turned and looked back. Catching 
sight of Jane, he hesitated for a moment, 
then returned to the gate. There was no 
use for Jane to conceal herself longer, so 
she walked out and joined us. Booby mo- 
tioned for her to come to the gate. 


104 


JANE AND I 


“If you have anything to say to me, come 
here and say it,” she called to him. He 
took the challenge and walked boldly to us. 

“Come walk over to the house with me,” 
he said. 

“I don’t care to go just now,” she re- 
plied. 

“Oh, you prefer to rest in the camp of 
our enemy, do you? Very well, I shall so 
inform your father.” 

That was as far as he got. I grabbed 
him by the lapel of his coat and slammed 
him down upon the old wooden bench so 
hard it broke one of its ancient legs; then 
I shook him good. 

“Stand up and make humble apologies 
to these ladies ! ” I demanded. 

I had tried my man and he was a putty 
ball. 

He stood foolishly looking about for his 
hat and his cane. 

“Speak out your apology, quickly!” I 
insisted, and he did, saying: 


JANE AND I 


105 


4 ‘ Ladies, I do apologize for being the 
cause of this disgraceful scene .’ ’ 

“Now listen to me,” I continued; “if I 
ever hear that you are annoying this young 
lady in the slightest manner, or further in- 
truding your attentions upon her, I will 
search you out, wherever you may be, and 
you shall account to me for it. Now get 
off these grounds, and never enter that gate 
again . 9 9 

He went without a second invitation, and 
we all knew he would go direct to Mr. May- 
berry. 



I’ll tell you what I think of you. 


We never dreamed that the usually silent 
and speechless Mr. Mayberry would muster 
courage to show open resentment or tem- 
per over this matter, but he did. 

In about half an hour he came rushing 
into the house, raging like a lion. 

‘ 4 Where is Jane?” he demanded in a 
loud voice. 


JANE AND I 


107 


That industrious young woman was peel- 
ing potatoes in the kitchen. 

‘ 4 Where is my daughter!” he howled. 

Hearing the loud talk, mother and Jane 
came into the room together. 

“Go home!” yelled the father. “Go 
home this minute, and never enter this house 
again. ’ ’ 

With this, he started toward Jane with 
clenched hands. 

Seizing him by the arm, I pushed him 
back, saying: 

“Stop, Mr. Mayberry! You are not in 
your own house now.” 

He viciously jerked away from me, and 
in an infuriated manner cried: 

“You interfere in my private family af- 
fairs! You impudent upstart!” and he 
made a dive for my throat. 

Mother and Jane stood, much frightened, 
and watched what followed. 

We had a. large old-fashioned family 
chair in the room. Seizing him around the 


108 


JANE AND I 


waist, I lifted him bodily into the air and 
sat him down in this chair with consider- 
able force. 

He was not a strong man and I easily 
subdued him by main strength. 

When his struggles ceased, I warned him 
not to stir, then standing in front of him 
I delivered this lecture: 

“Sit there, now, till I tell you what I 
think of you. I am justified in taking ex- 
treme measures. You have entered our 
home and assaulted the whole family right 
in our own house; but, Mr. Mayberry, for 
the sake of the old friendship which once 
made me call you ‘pa,’ and your little Jane 
call my mother ‘ma,’ I will not be harsher 
than is necessary. 

“Once, Mr. Mayberry, you sat in that 
same chair and said to my mother in the 
presence of us children: ‘ Fannie, I hope 
nothing may ever occur to mar the happi- 
ness of this family. I feel under life-long 
obligations to you for having been a mother 


JANE AND I 


109 


to my little daughter. I don’t know what 
would have become of us without your as- 
sistance. I hope this boy may grow to be 
a big, strong man, to continue to safeguard 
her after we have grown old,’ then you 
drew me over on your knee and caressed 
me. 

“To-day you rush into the same room 
and assault us for desiring to do that same 
thing— protect Jane. 

“Now, we are going to protect her to the 
end, and you cannot prevent it. You have 
insulted mother, and tried to defraud her, 
as a reward for her faithful watch over 
Jane. 

“Your greed has taken the honor and 
manhood out of you. You desire to sell 
Jane, bodily, to that imbecile son of old 
butcher Blatz. You shall not do it. You 
might as well make up your mind to that, 
and turn these people out of your place, 
your house at least. 

“If you do not promise never to allow 


110 


JANE AND I 


young Blatz to enter your home again, J ane 
never shall. Now answer, and answer 
quickly. ” 

He made no answer, but sat with his eyes 
staring at the floor for several minutes, 
then arising he walked out of the room. 

It was some hours before my departure. 
Mother, Jane, and I fixed up a code to be 
used as a distress signal in the event that 
anything serious should happen in my ab- 
sence. Jane then went over to her own 
home, with the understanding that she was 
to return before I left. 

She did return, and told us that her fa- 
ther was not at all ill-natured toward her, 
but had patted her hands and said : 

“That boy was right, but we’ll build a 
railroad across that land, just the same.” 

I bade mother and Jane good-by, returned 
to Princeton, and the next week hurried 
over to New York to consult with Mr. Ban- 
ning. 

We enjoined them from making any en- 


JANE AND I 


111 


croachment upon my mother’s land, greatly 
to their surprise and chagrin. Then we 
organized the 4 4 Fairchild Coal and Coke 
Company,” Fairchild being my mother’s 
name. Next we commenced to look about 
for a big man for president, and finally 
went to the office of Mr. Blake. 

44 Mr. Blake,” said Mr. Banning, 4 4 we 
have just organized a coal company, and 
we need a scare-crow for president. Will 
you be it?” 

4 4 Well, I like that,” answered Mr. Blake. 
Then they put their heads together. 

I was kicking my heels on the radiator, 
when I heard Mr. Blake ask: 

44 Who are these Fairchilds?” 

4 4 Why, you remember Fannie Barbour, 
the prettiest woman in the State of Vir- 
ginia when you were a youngster? Well, 
it is she, and her son here. John, come 
here. ’ ’ 

I walked over to where they were sitting, 


112 


JANE AND I 


having been previously introduced to Mr. 
Blake. 

“Sit down here, now, and tell us all you 
know about this coal matter. ’ f 

We spent a couple of hours discussing 
the thing, and making it plain that we held 
the “key to the situation.” 

Mr. Blake seemed to be a very good-na- 
tured man, else there was something unusu- 
ally amusing about this which we could not 
see, for frequently he would lean back in 
his chair and laugh heartily. 

At last Mr. Banning said: 

“What the Devil is there so funny about 
this thing, Blake! What are you laugh- 
ing at!” 

“Well, in the first place,” answered 
Blake, “Fannie jilted me to marry Fair- 
child; and, in the second place, we control 
the road you want to tap. You have ac- 
tually enjoined my road from building a 
branch on to the property, and then come 
to me and ask me to become president of 


JANE AND I 


113 


your company. Don ’t you think that would 
make a dead man laugh V' 

Mr. Banning looked blank. It did look 
as though something was loose. 

“However, Banning,’ ’ continued Mr. 
Blake, “we will consider the matter. You 
can say to Fannie that my time for re- 
venge has come, and, unless there are some 
complications to prevent it, I will accept 
the presidency and finance the enterprise, 
and I may yet get a chance to squeeze her.” 

In about thirty days it was announced 
that the “Fairchild Coal and Coke Com- 
pany” had been duly incorporated and 
would at once begin operations. 

Mayberry had been quite ill after my de- 
parture, and he and Jane had gone on a 
winter trip to the Mediterranean. 



We were all tangled up. 


Jane and her father did not return until 
September. In the meantime I had gradu- 
ated and gone to New York. 

Mother closed up the old house and 
joined me in a comfortable little apartment, 
and we were living as 4 4 snug as a bug in a 
rug. ’ 9 


JANE AND I 


115 


It seemed that something was holding up 
the coal company, and Judge Banning did 
not see fit to confide in me fully. 

I learned, however, that negotiations 
were awaiting the return of Mayberry. 

From the time of our arrival in New 
York, Mr. and Mrs. Blake took us in tow, 
and hardly a day passed that we were not 
all together. 

Mr. Blake forgave mother for having 
jilted him in former years, saying: 

1 ‘Fannie, a discriminating fate intended 
that I should get a woman that loved me 
more than you did.” 

“Yes,” chipped in Mrs. Blake, “he never 
said that he loved me more than he did his 
first sweetheart.” 

Mr. Blake just chuckled. 

One evening in September I received a 
message from Mrs. Blake saying that I 
should dine with them that evening. 

In the note she said, “John, I want you 
to look your best, for I am going to intro- 


116 


JANE AND I 


duce you to the sweetest, prettiest girl you 
ever saw.” 

My heart jumped when I read this. 

What would Jane think if she knew I was 
primping to meet another woman. 

“No, I would look my wors-t, for Jane’s 
sake; but to please Mrs. Blake I would ac- 
cept the introduction and make myself as 
agreeable as possible.” 

I had a nice little dressing-room at the 
office, in order to remain there late and 
avoid going home to dress. 

I arrived at Mrs. Blake’s residence a lit- 
tle early, and not caring to disturb any one, 
I told the butler, as I had frequently done 
before, not to announce me. 

The evening was a bit chilly, and seeing 
a cozy wood fire back in the library, I 
walked into the room. 

Great Scott ! I could not be mistaken. 
That was Jane’s back and no mistake. No 
other woman ever had a back like that. She 
was standing, looking out of the window. 


JANE AND I 


117 


I must see her face at once. I made a little 
noise and she looked around, and it was 
Jane. 

The shock which Mrs. Blake received fif- 
teen minutes later nearly gave her heart 
disease. 

Jane and I were curled up on the daven- 
port, so entangled in arms we could not 
break, when Mrs. Blake entered. 

With a little scream, she demanded to 
know the meaning of such unseemly con- 
duct. 

We just kept right on and gave her the 
merry ha ! ha ! until, fearing we might real- 
ly offend her, we stood up, and I said : 

“Mrs. Blake, allow me to present to you 
my fiancee, Miss Mayberry. 9 ’ 

Mrs. Blake only stood with her mouth 
open and her eyes bulged out, but finally 
she recovered her breath and said, in a 
gaspy sort of sputter : 

“Fiancee! What do you mean? How 
long have you been engaged?” 


118 


JANE AND I 


“As long as we can remember,” I re- 
plied; and Jane backed this up with a big 
nod. She always did want to chip in when 
I was trying to explain things. 

Mrs. Blake was regaining her courage. 

“How long have you been guilty of this 
conduct she demanded. 

“Longer than we can remember, accord- 
ing to the family album,” I responded. 

Fortunately my mother came in at this 
juncture and immediately took my place at 
hugging and kissing Jane. 

“Well, this just takes my breath away!” 
exclaimed Mrs. Blake. ‘ ‘ Here I had planned 
what I thought would be a delightful little 
surprise for you, and I must eat my own 
cake. Young man, you are to be congratu- 
lated, for this is the most lovely girl in New 
York to-day.” 

“Oh, I ought to know that better than 
any one else, Mrs. Blake, for I raised her, ’ ’ 
I answered. “There isn’t much about her 
that I’m not acquainted with.” 



I take off my hat to a sand-icagon. 


There isn’t much more to tell. The coal 
netted mother and me nearly a million and 
Mayberry’s share in the enterprise made 
Jane independently rich. Therefore, the 
wedding, which shortly thereafter occurred, 
was put down as “a love match of long 
standing— a romance of two old Virginia 
families.” 


120 


JANE AND I 


Jane’s father is the general manager of 
the Fairchild Coal and Coke Company. 

I joined Judge Banning in his large law 
practice, the firm name now being Banning 
& Fairchild. We are the legal lights of the 
company. 

I wonder if some people are just natural- 
ly born under a whole constellation of lucky 
stars. If so, surely I belong to that class. 
I am supremely happy and satisfied. 

Many people say I am “foolish” and 
have such “crazy notions” about things. I 
am especially “daffy” about anything 
which recalls the sweet days of my youth. 

Jane’s memory is always coupled with 
my thoughts at such times. 

I always take off my hat when a sand 
wagon passes. Maybe some of the precious 
grains have touched Jane’s little pink toes. 

A sand pile is to Jane as a red rag is to 
a bull. You can’t hold her when she sees 
it. If she were on her way to church, in 
her best Sunday frock, she would sit down 


JANE AND I 


121 


in the sand pile, if a big policeman said no, 
and it would take a healthy one to play 
horse with Jane. She now weighs two hun- 
dred pounds and is as strong as an ox. 



I have formed the habit of tipping the 
toy balloon men, because they remind me 
of the time when Jane lost her bunch of 
June-bugs. 

Perhaps the average man puts me down 
for a fool, but let me say to such people, 
“You have my heartiest sympathy, you 


JANE AND I 


123 


have missed the sweetest experiences of 
life. ,, Most men, who think themselves 
very sane, do much more imbecilic things 
which they call smart, then go home and 
beat their wives. 

No man who played in the sand, rolled 
in the mud, got stung by yellow- jackets, 
hornets, and bumble-bees, butted into the 
middle of next week by a ram, or hooked 
over the fence by the old cow, with his wife 
as a child playmate before they were mar- 
ried, will ever treat her ill. The heart is 
made sound and true by these companion- 
ships. Love is abiding and wholesome 
when based on such a beginning. I say to 
men and women, be children just as long 
and as often as you can. The sand pile is 
good for malaria. If there is not a sand 
pile convenient, fall off a fence; jump out 
of the window; slide down the stair banis- 
ter or the rain-water spout; do anything 
to awaken the old feeling. 



Jane and I have a nice little country 
place down in Old Virginia, where we 
spend much of our time. 

We are not ashamed to say that, even 
now, some of our pranks look childish and 
foolish to those who do not understand. 


JANE AND I 


125 


We have tried to make our place resem- 
ble the dear old homestead. 

When I see Jane fooling about the flow- 
ers, the old picture comes up before me of 
a bulgy-legged little girl planting flowers 
in the sand, and the flowers are watered 
with the old love. Somehow or other, at 
such times, the love that Jane and I have 
for each other seems freshened up a bit. 















